Patronus
by TheWhoufflePrincess
Summary: Clara and John both have difficulty casting their patronus charms because of their rough backgrounds. Yet one morning, as they sneak out of class, they end up casting it perfectly, along with learning about each other. (Rubbish story, but enjoy!)


"But you're Clara Oswald! You know essentially everything!" John proclaimed as the two sat in a secluded area of Hogwarts, towards the sea. They had snuck out of class again, much to Clara's annoyance. She was definitely going to get reprimanded, but seeing John's face always made her forget everything she should be doing, even if they were both prefects and had to be presentable. It surprised her just how much they could get away with, but then again, they were excellent prefects in general- if they weren't with each other. They both adored each other, anyone could tell with just once glance. "What do you mean you can't do the Patronus charm?"

"Just because I know everything doesn't mean I can do everything." She responded back, running a hand over her wand. John pouted.

"Neither can I." John shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I can't do the Patronus doo-hickey either."

"Really?" Clara looked towards him, "You're well-versed in everything. The pride of Gryffindor, right?"

"Yeah, but you're the pride of Hufflepuff. That's saying something." John responded back. The two looked at each other before bursting into laughter. Clara was often known as the 'pride of Hufflepuff,' the sweetest and kindest out of them all, with a hint of a bossy complex that was always overlooked when seeing her achievements. It was one of the reasons why she ended up being a prefect. Clara slapped his arm playfully and John smirked.

"I've had difficulty in casting the spell." John explained once the laughter had died down. "All my happy memories always seem to turn to my most painful. Even if I focus on the happier side of the painfulness, I'm still going back to the painful side. It doesn't make any sense to me. It's not that hard to think of happy memories, but-,"

"-when you need to actually think of them for a purpose it doesn't work out?" Clara finished.

"No, hardly." John slumped, looking to his wand.

"When was the last time you tried?" Clara asked.

"I haven't tried since last year, though it failed. You?"

"Last year as well." It was Clara's turn to shift around uncomfortably. "My mother had passed away when I had to try it and all those happy memories seemed to have faded away. I haven't tried again. I've been scared to do it ever since." She admitted quietly, peering out onto the sky. It was dark and gloomy, as usual, but it was something to look at besides John's all seeing eyes.

"Well, I'll be here every step of the way. I'm scared too." John said, holding a hand out. She held it, enjoying the warmth of his hand, warming her better than any glove could ever. They looked out to the ocean, their hands still interlocked.

The two thought of their happiest memories, shooting out in the dark for a memory. For Clara, she expected it to be the day she was accepted into Hogwarts. She didn't think she would have it in her, especially after being a squib. Her mother had always believed she'd get an invitation, which made her train and attempt to learn all the spells possible. For John, he expected it to be the day he had been sorted into Gryffindor. He didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps and go into Slytherin. It was kind of a saying, 'once you're sorted into Slytherin, you're probably a villain.'

Despite this, they were both surprised. It was not either of those memories. It was something neither of them expected.

It was when they had each other.

The two envisioned the other as they moved their wands in circular motions. As cliche as it sounded, John thought of Clara's laugh whenever he said something amusing to her; how the beautiful sound would ring through silent hallways. Clara, on the other hand, thought of John's bright optimism and how everything he said would bring a smile onto her face, even when she was stressing at her exams or some other thing. John was her sun, which John could also say for Clara too.

"Expecto Patronum!" The two said simultaneously, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. They watched as the wisps came from their wands, intermingling with each other, then creating a ghostly silver of two identical animals.

"Woah." John said, looking up towards their Patronus charms. John held tighter onto Clara's hand in his surprise.

"Woah indeed."

The two had both summoned lynxes as their Patronuses, who were dancing in the air, together. They jumped, frolicked, and all the sort in front of them. Clara and John stared in awe, but Clara broke the tranquil silence that had started to envelope them.

"It's like we're soulmates." She murmured, her throat slightly raspy. John glanced at her and saw that she was crying now.

"Are you okay? Did something happen?" He asked, turning to her and pocketing his wand. He brought his other hand up to her cheek and wiped the tears away.

"I'm more than okay." She smiled softly, "I don't even know why I'm crying. I'm really happy, actually." John smiled back at her, planting a kiss on her forehead, as it was something John would always do if Clara felt down. Clara smiled softly at the gesture.

"Me too." He agreed, then paused. "What was your happiest memory?" Clara looked up and locked eyes with him.

"I...erm..." She smiled sheepishly, "I thought of you."

"Funny you should say that. I thought of you too." He grinned, "Is this our way of..."

"Confessing something? Maybe." She grinned cheekily back. She saw John lean in incorrectly. She placed a hand on his chest and pushed him gently. "Careful, if you're going to kiss me, I'd rather not get my eye poked out, thanks."

"Oi! My chin is not that large, thank you very much." He frowned, "You know how to make a moment special, don't you, Oswald?"

"Oh, just shut up." She brought herself closer towards him, in which he did so as well, properly, up until...

"Clara Oswald!"

"John Smith!" Their heads both snapped up at the authority, eyes wide at the surprise. The Patronuses disappeared and it was just them, just inches apart. The voices of authority belonged to Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout, both of them with their arms crossed and eyes piercing into the two love birds. Clara snapped to attention, clamoring to stand straight. John was slower, but stood besides Clara. Both prefects had rosy cheeks, Clara especially, who wasn't keen on getting in trouble.

"You should both be in class." Professor Sprout said, eyes narrowing to the young Hufflepuff prefect. "I expected more from you, Miss Oswald. I had thought you understood my warning last time. Ten points off of Hufflepuff."

"I apologize, Professor." Clara mumbled, peering down at her shoes. "I didn't mean to. It won't happen again, I promise." Professor McGonagall turned to John, who was prepared for his reprimanding.

"Mr. Smith. You should also be in class, not having a quick snog. This is your last warning. Ten points off of Gryffindor." Professor McGonagall looked much more irritated than Professor Sprout, which made John uncomfortable. "Class is about to end in five minutes. You will both go to your common rooms until lunch begins."

"Yes, Professor. It won't happen again." John assured, nodding. They shuffled off to their own common rooms, both of their cheeks red with embarrassment. Professor Sprout looked to Professor McGonagall, who looked quite smug in her eyes, despite her overall stoic expression.

"We never should have made them prefects. They're rubbish examples." Professor Sprout said, but Professor McGonagall shook her head in disagreement.

"They really should have been sorted in the same house, they would be perfect prefects together. Mr. Smith is absolutely head over heels for Miss Oswald."

"That goes for Miss Oswald as well."

"Do you suppose they are aware that we have known about their meetings near Hagrid's?" Professor Sprout asked as the two professors walked through the hallways.

"I highly doubt it. Just as long as they don't get into anything particularly over the top there, I'll turn a blind eye." Professor McGonagall smiled. Professor Sprout looked to her, confused.

"Really now? I didn't take you to do that, Minerva." Professor Sprout said, "It's just not you."

"Mr. Smith and Miss Oswald both come from rough tidings back home. It is only best that they find solace in each other." Professor McGonagall left it at that, walking into her classroom. Professor Sprout stood there for a moment, but decided that Professor McGonagall knew best and walked off herself.


End file.
